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    The Wrong Number
    The Wrong Number
    The Wrong Number
    Ebook168 pages2 hours

    The Wrong Number

    By R. L. Stine

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    It begins as an innocent prank: Deena Martinson and her best friend, Jade Smith, make sexy phone calls to the boys from school. But Deena’s half-brother, Chuck, catches them in the act and threatens to tell their parents—unless the girls let him in on the fun. Chuck begins making random calls, threatening anyone who answers. It’s dangerous and exciting. The teens are even enjoying the publicity and the uproar they’ve caused.

    Until Chuck calls a number on Fear Street.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSimon Pulse
    Release dateDec 4, 2012
    ISBN9781442486201
    The Wrong Number
    Author

    R. L. Stine

    R.L. Stine has more than 350 million English language books in print, plus international editions in 32 languages, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written other series, including Fear Street, Rotten School, Mostly Ghostly, The Nightmare Room, and Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and his Cavalier King Charles spaniel, Minnie. Visit him online at rlstine.com.

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    Reviews for The Wrong Number

    4/5

    28 ratings4 reviews

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    • 5/5
      the mystery and suspense I give R.L.Stine serious props, over all just a great book.
    • 2/5
      I didn't liked it that much. The first half of the book was promising, I thought it had a twist ending, but it turned out to be a typical, cliched ending. Shallow and underwhelming, to be honest.
    • 3/5
      SIKE! DAS THE WRONG NUMBER!!
    • 2/5
      Possible Spoiler Alert:Last Fear Street Reread! So this book was kind of dumb, but at least the police had the right prime suspect in mind after all. What I really want to do, however, is take a moment to talk about the series as a whole. As much as I groaned at the predictable, unrealistic (though generally not supernatural), and repetitive plots, they never bogged me down. I've had one or two books I couldn't finish at all, and others I could barely slog through, but these held my attention, and were never torture to read. The number one way I'd improve the series: more ghosts, less murder. No one would even move to Shadyside if the murder rate were that high.

    Book preview

    The Wrong Number - R. L. Stine

    PROLOGUE

    Scheming. It was the thing he’d been best at in his life. Seeing something he wanted, and figuring out how to go after it, step by step.

    Sure, he messed up a lot. He’d had some bad luck. Sometimes people got in his way. Ruined his perfect plans.

    That wouldn’t happen this time.

    This plan was his best. No way it could fail. No way he’d let anyone mess up this one.

    As he sat in the dark, rolling it over and over in his mind, a sneer formed on his face. It was too bad, what he had to do. He didn’t really want to hurt anyone.

    But what choice did he have? He had to take care of himself. No one else was going to take care of him. He’d learned that early, beginning with his parents.

    Now he knew it was time to act, and not think about what had happened to him in the past.

    After all, it wasn’t his fault that he was always getting in trouble.

    That was going to change. From now on, things would go exactly the way he wanted them to.

    He’d made the perfect plan. On the surface, everything seemed normal.

    But someone was due for a big surprise.

    A deadly surprise.

    All he had to do was be patient. Be patient and wait until it was time to act….

    FALL 1990

    1

    THE FIRST WEEK IN SEPTEMBER

    The blob of green gel oozed like something from the bottom of a decaying swamp. It spread and settled in its container, quivering, as if searching for a way to escape or a way to take over.

    Deena Martinson plunged her hand into the porcelain sink and slowly squeezed the gelatinous mass.

    Yuck! she said. Are you sure you want to put this on your hair?

    Go ahead, said her friend Jade Smith. Jade was sitting on a wooden stool in front of the bathroom mirror, a towel covering her shoulders, her freshly washed auburn hair hanging in damp coils down her back.

    I know your mom’s a professional hairdresser, said Deena, but this stuff looks like the thing that ate Cincinnati. And I won’t even tell you what it feels like.

    Go on, Jade insisted. My mom uses it on her hair all the time, and it looks great. All shiny and full of body.

    "Are you sure you don’t mean dead bodies?" cracked Deena. She began applying the gel to her friend’s hair. Soon the long tresses were covered with slime and gave off a faintly Jell-O-y scent.

    Now what? she asked when she had finished.

    Now we wait for it to dry, said Jade. At which point I’ll be ravishing. Sure you don’t want to try it? We could do your hair in spikes.

    Deena fingered her own baby-fine hair. It was shortish, and blondish, and straightish. All she could do was wear it layered and hope for the best. Her mother said her hairdo made her look like an angel. She wasn’t sure she liked that idea, but spikes didn’t sound any better. No, thanks, she said. I have enough problems without trying secret formula x-oh-nine or whatever it is.

    It could be your big chance, said Jade, but she didn’t push. She didn’t seem to care much. In fact, she sounded a little bored—as bored as Deena felt.

    What a way to spend Saturday night, said Deena with a sigh.

    Yeah, I hate to admit it, said Jade, but I’ll actually be glad when school starts Monday. It’ll be great to see all the kids, start going to dances and games.

    Yeah, I guess, said Deena.

    Hey, Miss Enthusiasm.

    It’s just I don’t know what to expect, Deena said. Things are going to be different.

    What do you mean?

    I just found out that my brother, Chuck, is going to be living here.

    Your brother? You don’t have a brother, said Jade.

    My half brother, actually. He’s my dad’s son from his first marriage. I’ve only met him a few times. He’s coming to Shadyside for his senior year.

    Really? Jade was all ears now, but then she usually was where boys were concerned.

    Down, girl, said Deena. Chuck is nothing but trouble. In fact, that’s why he’s coming here. He was supposed to graduate from Central City last year, but he got expelled. His mom and my dad decided he’d do better in a small town like Shadyside.

    Expelled? said Jade. What for?

    I’m not sure, said Deena. It had something to do with some kids he hung out with. He actually got arrested one time. He’s been getting in trouble ever since he was little.

    He sounds interesting, said Jade with a mischievous smile.

    To you, Freddy Krueger would sound interesting, cracked Deena, wandering into her bedroom.

    It’s just that the regular boys at Shadyside are so predictable, said Jade, following her. "That’s ‘predictable,’ spelled B-O-R-I-N-G." She pulled the towel off her shoulders, then shook her damp hair out and pirouetted in front of the full-length mirror on Deena’s closet door, admiring her figure. She was wearing a pink-and-white-checked jumpsuit with short sleeves. Deena had heard that redheads weren’t supposed to wear pink, but Jade looked good in every color of the rainbow—and she knew it. In fact, she was very vain. But, Deena had to admit, Jade had a lot to be vain about.

    How’s your hair doing? Deena asked to change the subject.

    Still cooking, said Jade. She suppressed a yawn, then sat on Deena’s bed and began using an emery board on her already perfect nails. She looked around the room, and her eyes stopped on a bright blue plastic object on the bedside table.

    What’s this? she said.

    My new phone, said Deena. When my dad got promoted to vice president of the phone company, they gave us the latest instruments.

    It’s pretty rad, said Jade, picking it up. It looks like the control panel for a jet plane or something. What are all these buttons for?

    They’re for programming in phone numbers, said Deena. You push one button, and the phone automatically dials a number. That button’s for putting the caller on hold. And this switch—she pointed to a switch on the handset—turns it into a speakerphone, so everyone in the room can hear the conversation.

    Yeah? said Jade. That sounds like it has possibilities. In fact, it gives me an idea. Whose numbers are in it?

    I haven’t programmed in too many yet, said Deena. Just my grandmother, Mrs. Weller next door, and you, of course.

    Me? Really? How do I dial it?

    Just punch number three.

    Watch this. My little sister Cathy’s babysitting the kids tonight. She punched number three, then flipped the switch for the speaker, a strange smile on her face.

    Hello, she said, holding her nose so she sounded as if she had a cold. Miss Cathy Smith, please.

    This is Cathy Smith, said the voice on the other end. Through the speaker her voice sounded hollow and far away, as if it were coming from the bottom of a well.

    I’m calling from the Shadyside Mall Association, said Jade, still holding her nose. Miss Smith, I regret to inform you that you have been selected worst-dressed shopper of the month.

    What? shrieked Cathy at the other end. I didn’t even go to the mall today!

    You were positively identified by over a dozen shoppers, said Jade. You have exactly one hour to pick up your prize, a dozen wilted daisies.

    A dozen what? wailed Cathy. Then her voice turned suspicious. Wait a minute. I know who this is. It’s not the mall. Jade, I know you—

    I don’t know what you’re talking about, said Jade, pinching her nose even tighter. This is the—

    You can’t fool me, Cathy went on. Next time pick on someone as stupid as you are! The sound of the click as she hung up filled the room.

    Rats! said Jade. I should try it with someone who doesn’t know my voice so well. Someone who would never expect—I’ve got it! Deena, look up Henry Raven’s phone number.

    Henry Raven? said Deena. He’s such a nerd! All he cares about is his computer. Why do you want to talk to him?

    Just watch, said Jade. Or rather, listen—to this! She took the phone book from Deena, looked up the number, and punched in seven digits. The sound of a ringing phone filled the room, then a click, and then the unmistakable voice of Henry Raven.

    Hello?

    Hello, is this Henry? Jade was talking so low, she was almost whispering, and Deena thought her voice sounded mysterious and sexy.

    This is Henry, said Henry. Who is this?

    You don’t know me, Henry, whispered Jade, but I’ve had my eye on you for a long time. She whispered long so it sounded like lo-o-o-ng, her voice breathy and seductive.

    "Who is this?"

    Someone… who’d like to be a good friend. I like your style, Henry—

    Is this some kind of a joke?

    It’s no joke, said Jade. I’ve never been more serious. You’re just the kind of guy a girl like me yearns for….

    There was a long silence at the other end. Then suddenly Henry sputtered, Find another guy! I don’t have time for this! And he hung up the phone with a bang.

    Both girls fell onto the bed, laughing hysterically.

    "Did you hear that? He doesn’t have time!" Deena couldn’t stop giggling.

    That was even better than I expected, said Jade when she stopped laughing. Now it’s your turn.

    My turn? said Deena.

    Sure. You heard me. We’ll just pick—

    Jade, no! said Deena. I can’t even talk to people in person!

    That’s the whole point, said Jade. It’s much easier when you’re anonymous. Now, let’s see, she went on, flipping through Deena’s phone book. How about Rob Morell?

    Rob Morell? shrieked Deena. He’s one of the most popular boys in the whole school!

    So what? said Jade. You like him, don’t you?

    Sure, said Deena, but when he was in my geometry class last year, I could never think of anything to say to him.

    Well, now’s your chance, Jade said.

    But what if he finds out it’s me?

    Just whisper, like I did, and he won’t have a clue, said Jade. Ignoring Deena’s continuing protests, she punched in the number and thrust the phone at her friend.

    "But what’ll I say?" cried Deena, looking horrified.

    Whatever comes to your mind, said Jade. Just be sexy.

    Hello? squeaked Deena. Then she took a deep breath and dropped her voice. May I speak to Rob Morell, please?

    Great! Jade mouthed the word. After a moment a sleepy-sounding boy’s voice came over the speaker: Hello?

    Hello, Rob? whispered Deena, making her voice as seductive as possible. What’s a good-looking guy like you doing home on a Saturday night?

    "Watching

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